


A New Ally

by Fenchurch87



Series: The Way of the Warden [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Battle, Brecilian Forest, Darkspawn, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenchurch87/pseuds/Fenchurch87
Summary: Solona Amell meets a young Dalish elf named Rhodri Mahariel. Originally written in response to a writing prompt on /r/dragonage.





	A New Ally

“Werewolves. Of course.” Solona glanced at Alistair as he fell into step beside her. “Just this once, I thought they might agree to help without us having to solve all their problems first.”

“Nobody said stopping the Blight would be easy,” she remarked. “We'll find a way to deal with the werewolves. Just like we always do.”

“Just like you always do, you mean.” Alistair smiled and lightly brushed her arm with his fingertips. It was the briefest of touches, but it was enough to send electricity down her spine. At least something good had come out of the Blight.

The two Grey Wardens and their companions walked on towards the forest. Ivan trotted ahead of them, pausing every few yards to investigate a particularly interesting smell.

“Warden? Could you wait? Just for a moment? Warden?”

Solona turned around and saw a small figure hurrying towards them from the direction of the camp.

“What is it?” she asked when they were close enough to speak without shouting.

The newcomer stopped a few paces away, and Solona studied him. She recognised the elf; she had seen him listening while Sarel told her about the werewolves. He had seemed uncomfortable, hanging back from the fire and keeping his distance from the rest of the clan. That nervousness was gone now. There was an easy confidence in the way he stood, and in the way he steadily met her gaze.

“Warden Amell?” he asked. She nodded. “My name is Rhodeirin Mahariel, but most people call me Rhodri. You can call me that too, if you like.” The elf paused and ran a hand through his dark red hair. “I want to come with you.”

“Why?” Rhodri was very young, she realised, possibly even younger than herself. The thought of needlessly leading him into danger made her stomach twist.

“I want to help.” Rhodri squared his shoulders. “I can guide you through the forest. And I have a way with animals. I can help you deal with the bears and wolves – normal wolves, I mean, not werewolves. I can fight too, when I need to.” His hands strayed to the daggers that hung at his belt.

She had to admit that Rhodri's skills would be useful, but she was still uneasy. “What does everyone think?”

Alistair spoke up first. “If he wants to help, then I say we let him. And it will be good to to have someone with us who knows the forest.”

“I agree.” Leliana turned to smile at the elf. “We should be thankful for anyone who wants to fight on our side.”

Wynne considered for a while, but finally she nodded. Sten and Morrigan nodded too, albeit rather more grudgingly.

“Zevran?”

“I would be a fool to turn away a potential ally,” the assassin remarked. “Especially such a handsome one.”

The younger elf's eyes widened, and two spots of pink appeared on his cheeks. He recovered quickly, though. “Handsome, is it?” he asked with a smile. “Well, I would be a fool to refuse a compliment from a potential ally. Especially such a charming one.” He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Solona cleared her throat. “Well, everyone's agreed. There's just one more test.” She whistled. “Ivan! To me!” The mabari bounded over, abandoning the tree that he had been sniffing. “This is Rhodri. What do you think of him, boy?”

Ivan eyed the elf warily for a few seconds, and then started licking his hand. Rhodri laughed, and Solona felt the beginnings of a smile. “Congratulations,” she said. “You're one of us now.”

*****

Rhodri was as good as his word, pointing out the best paths through the forest and the areas that were best avoided. Solona walked beside him for much of the way. She was eager to learn more about the Dalish, beyond the little that Lanaya had explained, and Rhodri seemed happy to talk.

“Is that Mythal's vallaslin?” she asked, glancing at the lines that ran across his forehead in light brown ink. Rhodri nodded. “What made you choose her vallaslin?”

Rhodri considered for a moment. “I suppose I just wanted to be like Mythal. She is the protector of the people and the deliverer of justice. That was what I wanted to be. I wanted to right wrongs and defend those who couldn't defend themselves.”

“A noble thing to aspire to.”

The elf smiled briefly and then fell silent, gazing into the distance.

“How long have your clan been here?” Solona asked.

“They're not my clan,” Rhodri replied. “My clan lived further North. But something happened and I was separated from them. By the time I made it back to camp, they'd all gone. I think they fled from the Blight.”

“That's terrible! How could they leave you behind?”

Rhodri shrugged. “They probably thought I was dead. I don't blame them for leaving. I wandered alone for a while, and then I met some hunters from this clan. They brought me to Zathrian, and he agreed to take me in. So here I am.”

He looked sad and lost when he finished speaking, and Solona realised again just how young he was. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how. She opened her mouth, hoping the right words would come.

“Darkspawn!”

She turned to stare at the elf. The forlorn expression was gone, replaced by a look of grim determination as he drew his daggers.

Solona felt nothing. And so did Alistair, judging by the way he was calmly talking to Wynne and Leliana. “I don't think–” she began.

There it was. The now familiar prickling at the edge of her consciousness, followed by an overwhelming feeling of wrongness. She and Alistair shouted their warnings at the same time, and a small band of hurlocks came into view a few moments later.

She laid a hand on Ivan's back. “Go, boy!”

The mabari leapt at the first hurlock, ripping out its throat before it could even draw its sword.

The battle began. Solona stayed back with Wynne and Morrigan, hurling frost and glyphs at the darkspawn, making it all too easy for their friends to cut them down with sword, or dagger, or arrow. Ivan threw himself at any creature that strayed too close to him, snarling and tearing out chunks of tainted flesh with his powerful jaws.

And then a wolf entered the fray. Solona saw it lope into view and come to a stop beside Rhodri, who gestured towards one of the hurlocks and called out something in Elven. The wolf obeyed immediately.

One by one, the darkspawn fell, until only a pile of bodies remained. Solona hurried to join her friends who had been in the thick of the fighting. “Is everyone alright?”

Several voices said “yes” in unison. _Thank the Maker._ She watched Rhodri pull one of his daggers out of a hurlock's back and then turn to pet the wolf. So many questions, she didn't know where to begin.

The elf looked up and laughed at her expression. “I told you I was good with animals, didn't I?”

“You did,” she acknowledged. “But what about the darkspawn? How did you know–” She broke off when she saw the colour suddenly drain from Rhodri's face. “What's wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I'm alright.” Rhodri gasped and sank to his knees. “I'll be okay in a minute. I just tire easily sometimes.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Wynne appeared beside them, a soft blue glow surrounding her right hand. “I'm a healer. Let me– Oh!” She jumped back in shock and quickly withdrew her hand.

Rhodri staggered to his feet and moved away from Wynne as fast as he could. “I said I'm alright! There's nothing you can do to help, anyway.” He swayed unsteadily, and Alistair had to catch hold of his arm to stop him falling again.

Solona drew Wynne away from the others. “What happened?”

“The boy is very sick.” Wynne continued watching Rhodri, concern in her eyes. “There is a darkness inside him. A foulness. I've never felt anything like it. Zathrian's magic is keeping him alive, but it is only slowing the progression. The darkness will kill him, sooner rather than later, I fear.”

“There must be something we can do.” She didn't want to believe that Rhodri was dying. “We have to help him, Wynne.”

“Whatever his illness is, it cannot be healed by normal magic. Your determination to help is admirable, my dear, but I fear there is nothing we can do for the boy.”

“I'll think of something.” Wynne was right about many things, Solona knew, but she was wrong about this. Rhodri was helping them, and she would find a way to help him in return. It was the least she could do.

 


End file.
